The Reappearance of Riverdale
by IEatBooksForTea
Summary: Jughead's story is not the only story that needs to be told in this universe. The Reappearance of Riverdale is a oneshot collection for the voices of character's whose stories can't be told in The Disappearance of Betty Cooper.


**Synopsis:** Veronica Lodge left Riverdale to pursue a career in business and to leave her past life behind. But elements of Riverdale still haunt her. And she still remembers her best friend who had, all those years ago, disappeared.

 **Genre:** Crime/Romance

 **Timeline:** Post-Season One. Current timeline of The Disappearance of Betty Cooper

 **Pairing:** TBA… ;)

 **Rating:** T

 **A/N:** _I heard through the grapevine that quite a few of my readers were questioning where Veronica was in TDOBC and why she left Riverdale (is she suspicious?). This oneshot collection is here to answer those questions and tell the stories of other characters that can't be told in the main story. Veronica's oneshot will continue in the future after a certain character appears in the main story._

* * *

 **The Lifestyle of Veronica Lodge**

Veronica Lodge has always considered herself a city girl.

She thrives on it.

The electricity of striding down a busy street. The static of a lightning cloud. The isolation in a busy throng. Thousands of people surrounding her that don't need to know she had once been friends with Betty Cooper.

Veronica had graduated high school, watched her friends deteriorate around her and had eventually moved away to study business management at NYU. It had felt like natural timing, like the whispering encouragement of fate. It hadn't felt like running away. Instead, it had been moving towards something. Towards a future.

Yet there was always something of Riverdale left in her life. Her old Riverdale Vixen's cheerleading outfit still hung in her closet like a limp wedding dress from an old marriage she couldn't quite let go of. She had packed away her Pussycat ears and stray photographs of her and her friends in a box under her bed. She still had Archie's number in her cell phone.

They were loose things. Forgotten things. Like a string of beads, she couldn't bring herself to cut. But she couldn't wear them either.

She'd made plans, back then, with Kevin and Archie and Betty. That they'd all pack up and move to New York and then to the rest of the world. Then Betty had disappeared. So those plans didn't matter anymore. Kevin didn't have the heart to leave and Archie was always looking out the window for a flash of blonde hair. So, Veronica had just slipped away. Moved to New York with only her suitcases and her courage. And she'd created a life for herself – all on her own.

It had been her way of grieving. Of moving on. Of letting Betty go – wherever she was.

Of smiling at the world and announcing it hadn't destroyed her yet.

Veronica plucks up her suit collar, her fashionably glossy briefcase perched in her hand, as she strides into her work offices. She shoves through the revolving glass doors, hearing them spin behind her – thumping like a train on a track – as she paces across the expanse of the entrance hall. Her heels clack on the cold floor to the beat of her heart. Her pearl string choker flexes around her throat.

"Morning," Esther, the receptionist, chimes as Veronica passes her to press the elevator button. It alights with a glowing ring of gold. It looks like an eclipse.

"Hey," Veronica smiles at the receptionist, her eyes sparkling. "How was your date last night?" She notices the way the woman's eyes are tired and creased. Veronica's eyebrow quirks. It could have gone either way then.

Esther shrugs awkwardly. Her smile is sheepish. A blush creeps across the skin of her cheek.

It went well then. A light chuckle erupts from Veronica's lips. "Make sure to use protection," she grins playfully just as the elevator chimes and the doors churn open. She has already stepped inside and clicked the third-floor button before a spluttering Esther can even respond.

The polished, iron doors slide closed.

Veronica's smile drops from her reflection.

She doesn't remember the last date she went on. She has been so consumed with her career that she'd never really entertained the idea of wanting one. The thought thumps to the bottom of her stomach.

Has this life made her lonely?

But she can't linger in those thoughts for any more than a moment. Because the elevator has already trilled at its destination. Veronica flits at her dark hair, scooping a loose lock behind her ear just as the doors grate open.

She breathes out once, steadies her shoulders, and marches into her office.

"Hey there, Lodge," Jonathan, her closest colleague raises his head at her approach, his hands pausing amidst scattered paperwork over his desk. He raises a single eyebrow and nods his head in the direction of her desk. "You've got some new manuscripts on your desk."

"Finally," Veronica puffs out, laughing heartily. "There better be something good in there. Otherwise, Ricky is going to have my neck."

Jonathan's eyes widen in agreement as Veronica swings into her desk, sliding her briefcase beside her and settling her hands on the new, fresh batch of novel manuscripts. Veronica had never imagined herself falling into the Literary Agency business. But she'd found, during her course at university, that she had a knack for homing in on what was missing in the market. It was a precise talent that she'd applied to her essays, twisting the words into arguments that she was sure the professor hadn't witnessed before. Even if they were risks, it is risks that business is all about.

And working in what threatens to be a dying business is a risk. It alights her with a rush and keeps her up at night.

With a heavy, determined sigh, Veronica plucks the first, heavy manuscript from the top of the pile and balances it in her palm. She skims over the covering letter, settling into the words of the summary.

 _On the night of her prom, sixteen-year-old cheerleader Sarah Rodrigues is seen cradled on the front porch of the school, tears streaming down her cheeks. Fifteen minutes later and she has disappeared with no trace of her left in the world. Shocked and afraid, the friends of the prom queen rally together to search for her. They never find her. Eight years later, Dominic, Sarah's best friend, returns to rectify that. Can he find out the truth of what happened to Sarah Rodrigues? And are any of his friends lying-?_

"Nope," Veronica almost flings the manuscript away from her – as if it's on fire – as she drops it into her wastepaper basket. Her heart thumps as it reaches the bottom.

Across from her, Jonathan shifts behind his desk, eyeing her, amused. "You're never going to find anything good if you just throw it away at the first glance," Jonathan scoffs disbelieving. He stretches up from his seat, the chair squeaking as he does. "Is it that offensive?" Jonathan strides across to her desk and bends down to pick up the stray manuscript before Veronica can object. The contents of the wastepaper basket crinkles as he pulls it out. His eyes visibly scan the covering letter, clearly eating up the words. Veronica feels sick.

Jonathan's eyes dropped to hers, dark and confused, "Lodge, this sounds _good_. Why are you dumping it?"

Veronica's voice sounds tight. "You know I don't do crime." She tries to shrug as if it's nothing. It's isn't nothing. She doesn't need this reminder. Not now.

"Yeah, but the publishing world does. Seriously, this might be what you need to get on Ricky's good side again."

She sighs. It grates against the back of her throat. Jonathan looks down at her meaningfully as he slaps the manuscript squarely back in front of her. "Just read it," he widens his eyes purposefully at her. She knows her stubbornness is a frustrating to him.

"Fine," she tuts, sneering at him with a glint in her eyes. "I'll read it. But no promises."

Jonathan shrugs as if that's all he wanted as he backs away from her desk.

Veronica's eyes settle back on the offending manuscript. It's clean and crisp as if it doesn't hold so many uneasy memories for her. She _will_ read it. She will face it.

But she needs a coffee first.

* * *

 _To be continued…?_


End file.
